


Hypocrite

by spacefucker



Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Drinking, F/M, First Kiss, Hearing aids, Reader-Insert, bad jokes abound, brat pack movies, clint is a lying liar who lies, clint's arms are so muscular i love it, deaf!Clint, it's not really 'graphic depictions of violence' but i am playing it safe bc, joking to hide pain, reader was shot and clint patches her up, the one where the reader is just as much a disaster as clint, why are most of my stories about movie and tv marathons or ends with them???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-07-10 11:06:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6981805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacefucker/pseuds/spacefucker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Y/N and Clint are both disasters and when the reader is shot Clint feels responsible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hypocrite

Clint needed to buy more gauze. 

As far as rough nights go this had been a bit of a dozy. Getting shot was never fun and even though it wasn’t him this time somehow it was worse. 

Y/N was sitting on his kitchen table. The thing had seen better days, it’s faux linoleum covered in coffee rings, dried blood, and always seemed to be faintly sticky. Clint was sitting in a chair, her leg in his lap while he worked to dig the bullet out. He tried to be only slightly embarrassed about the ridiculous sea foam green color of his dinning room set.

He tried to ignore the smoothness of her leg and the weight of it in his lap. He had put his hearing aid in and focused on listening to her intently.

“I had hoped that my first time in your apartment would have been because you invited me, not because of necessity.”

Y/N sounded a little breathless, speaking through clenched teeth. Her normal fast chatter and sarcastic banter completely gone. Clint winced at her tone. Definitely not good. He knew she had quite the pain tolerance and if this was fazing her maybe it was worse than he thought.

He found the bullet and noted it was uncomfortably close to her femur. He pulled it out gently and gave it a look to see if any bone fragments were on it.

“Maybe this should be a hospital thing.”

Y/N laughed, albeit a little hollowly, “It’s a bullet wound, Clint. There’s no clipped major arteries.”

“Yeah, but I’m worried it grazed or hit your femur.” Clint said, breaking out the suturing kit and disinfectant. 

“Femur shmemur. It’s fine. Just hand me that vodka and get to stitching.”

Clint smiled at the return of her joking tone and passed the vodka and started sterilizing his tools and her wound.

“I just worry about you.”

Y/N snorted, “And you don’t think I worry about you when you get all banged up?”

“This is different.” Clint sighed, threading the needle and starting at the top of the bullet wound.

Y/N inhaled sharply and exhaled out her nose slowly, “Bullshit, you hypocrite.” She laughed and clutched the edge of the table. “This is literally almost the exact same situation you were in last week.”

Clint frowned, “No, it’s not.”

Another laugh, barked out and a little more full of mirth, “Says the guy who lied and was a liar. Explain, then, the blood stains on my sofa and the healing bullet wound in your shoulder.”

His frowned deepened. It was that exact thing that got them into this mess. It takes a lot of strength to pull a bow string back and his injured arm had given him a lot of grief. He shouldn’t have been out. He’d put her in danger because he couldn’t stay still.

He finished the suture and packed up the supplies, brooding.

“I know that look.” Y/N said softly, grabbing one of his hands and squeezing it briefly. “This wasn’t your fault, Clint. I was the one bringing a knife to a gun fight.” She laughed lightly and pulled Clint to his feet, bringing him between her legs. “Well, a sword. Tomato, potato. My point is that this was on me.”

She moved her hands up his muscular arms and rubbed him absently and his hands found her waist naturally. Y/N was smiling up at him in that way that always made his heart skip a beat. 

“I should have been there for you when you needed it.” Clint said softly, rubbing feather light circles into her hips. The atmosphere between them had definitely changed. It scared the shit out of Clint but he’d be a liar who lies if he didn’t admit that he’d loved her for a while now.

Y/N wrapped her arms around him and pulled him into a tight hug, her head resting on his chest. He tried breathing deep and focused on calming himself so his heartbeat would slow. She smelled faintly of sweat, antiseptic, and a little like the lavender shampoo he knew she used.

“You are always there for me, Clint. Just in different ways. You’re my rock. You’re my impromptu surgeon. My late-night movie binge buddy. The only guy who can make my coffee the exact way I like it. Not to mention you’re a certified badass and super easy on the eyes.”

She pulled from him slightly, arms still loosely around him, and gave him a smile and a wink.

“Easy on the eyes, huh?”

“Mmmhmm.” She hummed and moved her hands up to his neck, pulling him down.

Clint met her halfway, lips slotting together effortlessly as his hands tightened on her hips. She was smiling against his lips, fingers playing with the hairs near the base of his skull. He brought a hand up to her face and cupped it gently, brushing a thumb over her cheekbone. 

He leaned forward to deepen the kiss and winced at the hiss of breath Y/N took. Belatedly, he remembered her injury and pulled back sharply.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N, I-”

Y/N laughed and leaned forward to press her lips to his in a quick kiss before standing up gingerly. 

“It’s fine, birdbrain.” She leaned on him heavily and motioned to his living room, “Now, help me to the couch. I think it’s time for a Brat Pack marathon.”

**Author's Note:**

> Shout out to @sebastianfucker on tumblr for this prompt.
> 
> Find me there @spacefucker and send me prompts!


End file.
